Chapter Text
1.
His life didn’t flash before his eyes at the moment of his death. At least, not exactly. What he saw were all the other lives he’d lived in all the other universes that existed alongside this one at this particular moment in time. Were they all real, he wondered, or did I live one and dream the rest? Are any of them real? In the end, he supposed, it didn’t really matter. They all led to her, and they all ended with her.
Now he’d wait, as one of them always did, for the other to catch up. It was fascinating how often the waits were short. Turns out they didn’t do particularly well apart, which didn’t surprise him. There were exceptions, of course. Once she lived 33 more years than he. To be fair, he’d only been 48 and the semi had come out of nowhere. She’d done ok; she taken the insurance money and moved quietly to a place on the west coast between San Diego and La Jolla. She’d never remarried.
Typically, though, it was one after another or together. She’d die of cancer; he’d die shortly after of a broken heart. She’d been killed in the line of duty once and he’d, unfortunately, killed himself when he couldn’t live with the pain. Once they’d gone at the same time as hostages to a deranged pseudo-mob guy (that one had been terrible, really terrible and he released the memory immediately). Another time she’d become incurably ill, and they’d taken handfuls of pills and had gone to sleep together. It was quite nice, actually, although he recalled that in that thread a pandemic had decimated the world’s population. A sad thing, especially if you didn’t know that each lifetime was but a pathway to another lifetime, and that each lifetime brought you to the soul you were bound to. Always.
When he was dead he knew these things. He also knew, vaguely, that there were times before these. He had a hazy memory of her in the 50s – she’d been his secretary, of all things. She was not pleased, but they’d had fun with it. There was an even fainter memory of them on a steamship, Lady Liberty on the horizon. He assumed that at one point they’d been Neanderthals banging it out in a cave. Layers upon layers upon layers. Time and history and parallel universes. They lived them all. Probably everyone did.
He walked along the shoreline for a while before finally settling down in the sand. He rolled up his soft linen pants and put his feet in the water, and then he let his mind wander. She’d be along sooner or later, and time had a different meaning here. He’d just wait.
It wasn’t long. Maybe hours, maybe days, maybe even weeks, but no more than that. It went by in a blink. She was a small dot in the distance, but he knew it was her. He rose and went to her. When the distance could be measured in yards a huge smile lit up her face, and then she was in his arms.
“Hello, my love,” she said, her mouth against his.
“Hi, Scully. That wasn’t long. What happened?” He held her face in his hands and covered her with little kisses.
“We were together. Do you remember? It was a case…not an X-File, I don’t think. Some sort of raid. You took a bullet for me. That was sweet. I got hit anyway, but it was worse for you. Or better, depending on how you look at it. I hung on for a while, but I was in a coma. I didn’t know you were gone, and that was good.”
“That’s a tough ending for our last universe.” He was referring to the last one they remembered before arriving here, at the beach.“Took a bullet for you, huh? And you didn’t even live. Skinner must’ve been so pissed.”
She laughed. Maybe it wasn’t completely appropriate, but there was no one there to see them. “Probably. We were such pains in the ass. I think he loved us, though, somewhere underneath that gruff exterior.”
“Well, he liked me. You, he loved.”
She considered this and then smiled a little. "Maybe.".
He took her hand and they started walking. There was no destination, but that was ok. They sky was blue, the sun was warm, and the sand was soft under their feet. What else did they need, really?
A picnic? Maybe a picnic.
“Mulder!” she said, delighted. In the distance there was a splash of red, and as they grew closer they saw that it was a blanket. There was a basket, and inside there was fruit, cheese, bread and cold white wine. “Did you think of this?”
“Nope,” he said. “At least I don’t think so. But it looks wonderful.”
They sat on the blanket and dug into the strawberries, which were just the right firmness and perfectly sweet. He uncorked the wine and poured with a flourish.
“Here you are, sweetheart.”
She took the glass from his hand and raised it. “To Mulder and Scully.”
He clinked his glass with hers. “To Mulder and Scully. I liked them.”
“Me too. I liked them a lot. You were a little crazy with your conspiracy theories, but you grew on me.” She gave him a coy smile.
“Hey!” he protested. “Most of the time I was right. Frankly, I don’t know why it took you seven years to finally go to bed with me.”
“Mulder, it took you seven years to make a move.”
“You could’ve done it. Seven years after we met was early 2000. The women’s movement had made some serious strides.”
She shrugged. “I was scared. I remember that. But I do remember a couple of parallels where I made the first move.”
“It’s true,” he agreed. “How many do you remember this time? Parallels in general, I mean.”
“A few. Some were so wonderful. There was the one where we hooked up when I was undercover at the casino. That was fun. A couple were bad. Remember the one with William? Christ, that was awful. How many times exactly did our hearts get broken? Ugh.”
“Sometimes the pain is absurd, still, it’s what fate decides.”
“Hmmm?”
“Oh. That’s from a song, I think. Yes, I do remember. It was terrible. William, and then you left me for years. I was a mess. I know you were hurting so much.”
Her eyes had filled with tears at the memory. “I’m sorry, Mulder.”
“It’s ok, honey. There was one where we had four kids. It was so great. Four! And there you were, supposedly infertile.”
“Ha – joke’s on them. What else do you remember?”
“Let’s see. In quite a few we met on the X-Files, but there were some others. Do you remember the one where we met on a plane and ended up having to make an emergency landing? That one was fun. You’re not usually a one-night stand kind of girl.”
“It was not a one-night stand, Mulder.” She frowned at him, and a little wrinkle formed between her brows. He put his thumb on it and stroked her there.
“Don’t make that face. It seemed like it was going to be a one-night thing, but it wasn’t.” His thumb moved to her jaw and he tipped her face up to hers. “You are so beautiful. You’re always so beautiful.”
She laughed. “We mostly look the same every single time.”
“Yeah, but the little changes. I like this mole.” He leaned down to press his lips to it. “And you’re even tinier than usual.” He moved to her mouth and sought out her tongue. “I absolutely have to make love to you before we go on to the next thing. Maybe more than once.”
“You’ll get no complaints from me.” She tilted her head so he could reach her neck.
“Scully,” he said between nips at her collarbone and feather-light kisses at her throat. “I hate that we forget when we come back.”
“Mmmm, don’t hate it. Can you imagine if we remembered? We’d go insane. We grow up not knowing, so we can’t miss it. And then we find each other. And then we come here and remember, and then we do it again…Jesus, that feels good. Can you keep doing that?”
“I can keep doing that. I can do anything you want. Lay back, honey. We’ll eat later.”
2.
They lay on their backs, naked and staring up at a million stars. The wine had spilled onto the sand and the grapes were goners, but they didn’t mind.
He ran a finger over the light sheen sweat between her breasts. “Amazing,” he said. “Always, always fucking amazing.”
“Yeah,” she said dreamily. She turned her head to kiss his shoulder. “I love you so goddamn much.”
“I love you too, Scully. More than anything, for eternity.”
“Maybe eternity is what we have.”
“Maybe. I hope so. I guess for now we just live in the moment. Or the lifetime. Live in the lifetime.” He sighed. “Do you want to tell stories before we go back?”
“Yeah. Can I go first? I want to get the plane story.”
“Sure, sweetheart.” He took her hand, kissed it and then rested their joined fingers on his belly. “You go first.”